


One Flesh, One Heart, One Soul

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family, King Stannis, M/M, Married Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-22 16:26:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11383968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: It was a marriage of pure convenience, Stannis knew. It made perfect logical sense and was a means to an end. But that was not all it had to be.





	1. Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vana/gifts).



> Written for the Alternate Songs ASOIAF AU Exchange, for "AU - Homosexuality Accepted." (So obviously, I had to make them get hitched.) I hope you like it. ♥

The storm raging on the Narrow Sea seemed almost to be louder now that Davos was inside the Stone Drum, but at least he was out of the rain. And he was home.

"Welcome home, my lord. Devan." Maester Cressen stood at the entrance to the gallery, his shoulders seeming to have become more stooped in Davos' brief absence. "How was your journey?" 

"The winds were fair until tonight," Davos said, surrendering his cloak to the servant who appeared to take it, while trying not to think too much about it. Even after ten years, command of a bustling household did not come naturally to him, but it was better than the early days of his marriage when he'd been afraid to summon a servant or ask for even a cup of wine. "We are glad to be home, aren't we, Devan?" 

Devan nodded, though his face was shining with excitement. "The storm blew up out of nowhere! But Father took command and steered us home." 

Maester Cressen smiled. "That is one of your lord father's many talents."

"Is Stannis in his solar?" Davos was disappointed not to have been met by his husband, but he knew Stannis meant naught by it. Their reunion would be sweet enough without Stannis dashing down the stairs and into his arms.

The old man nodded. "I was on my way to see him." He looked down at what Davos could now see was a letter in his hand. "Bad news, I fear. The raven fell out of the storm just before you did." He took a steadying breath before raising clear eyes to meet Davos'. "The king is dead, Davos."

"Dead? Robert?" It did not seem possible. Stannis' strained relationship with his brother had always meant Davos and Robert were at a distance, but he knew no man more vital and full of life than his goodbrother. "How?" 

"A hunting accident." Maester Cressen held out the letter for Davos to read. "You are all bid to come to the capital." 

"Joff's king now?" Devan asked. Davos had nearly forgotten his son was there to hear all this.

"Aye, he is." Davos was not nearly as fond of his oldest nephew as he was of Tommen and Myrcella, which was not least because the first encounter between the two toddlers had ended with Joffrey knocking Devan down. Devan, of course, did not remember this.

"D'you think he needs me?" he asked dubiously. 

"I am sure he has many of his father's advisers to hand, but if we do go to the capital, he might relish having someone his own age about." _And perhaps if Joff sits the throne, he might be less like to let his mother choose his companions._  
  
Devan turned to Maester Cressen urgently. "What about Shireen, maester? Does she know? He… Uncle Robert… He was…"

All the concern Davos had felt for the new young king vanished in a rush of guilt that he had forgotten their bastard ward. The poor child was easy to forget, though Davos had always striven not to. She was a quiet and unassuming creature, however, well-accustomed to her status in life, and she did not seem to mind. 

"Not yet," Maester Cressen said gently. "She is with Septa, I believe. I will go to her after I have spoken to your lord stepfather." 

"Well, I'll go to her now," he said with conviction. "I should say hello." Devan hurried away. 

Davos turned to Maester Cressen. "Let me come with you to Stannis, maester."

"I would hope for nothing else, my lord."

They climbed the steep stairs together, Maester Cressen leaning heavily on Davos' arm. "I should offer you my condolences, maester," Davos said. "You raised Robert as much as you raised Stannis."

The old man smiled sadly. "Not as much. It was always Stannis who needed me more." 

They climbed the rest of the way in silence, Davos still turning the information over in his mind. He knew not how Stannis might react to this news. So much of recent months had been strange, starting with their middle-of-the-night flight from King's Landing, although, he reflected, Stannis had been behaving oddly before that. 

Ever since their return to Dragonstone, he had spent much of his time locked up in his solar, barely opening the door even to Davos. It was part of the reason Davos had taken Devan to visit Dale, who had married a year ago and was now the Knight of Cape Wrath. Perhaps giving Stannis some space (and time to miss him) would improve things.

Davos knocked once before opening the door. Stannis was at his desk, his broad shoulders seeming to loom over the papers spread out upon it. Only a flickering candle provided any light, and Davos instantly regretted having gone away at all. Things had only gotten worse. 

Stannis looked up. He was unshaven, though Davos noticed that at least it was only a couple of days' growth of beard. "You're back." 

"I am." He crossed the room and Stannis stood, taking Davos in his arms. 

There was relief in his tight squeeze, and a quiet "I missed you" whispered in Davos' ear. 

"I missed you, too." Davos smoothed Stannis' thinning hair and pressed a brief, chaste kiss to his lips before Stannis pulled away.

"There must be news," he said, going behind his desk again. "There must be or you would not both have come. Be quick about it."

"Your brother the king has died, Stannis."

Stannis did not look shocked, in sharp contrast to Davos' reaction. "So that is how she plans to play it."

"What do you mean?"

Stannis stepped away from his desk and went to the window. The storm outside was howling and, not for the first time, Davos fancied the island castle suited his husband more than he would care to admit. "I have not been completely honest with you, Davos." He turned. "You must hear this, too, maester." 

Davos glanced to the old man in some hope that he might have some clue as to what Stannis was about to say, but his expression was blank. 

"Joffrey is not the true king." Stannis did not turn away from the window. He stared grimly outward, and Davos was struck by how much weight he'd lost in just eight weeks. "For Robert had no trueborn issue. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are naught but bastards born of the union between the queen and her brother."

"The Kingslayer?"

"Aye." 

Davos took a deep breath. "Stannis, that would mean…"

"Aye." He looked resigned to it, and Davos wondered what the time alone had been like for him. Davos could not even bring himself to say the words.

"Are you certain?" Maester Cressen asked. He had not spoken in a long time.

"I am. Jon Arryn and I worked long to uncover the truth, and he was killed for it." Stannis glanced at Davos. "This was why I did not tell you. I feared they would come after you." 

"You say they killed Jon..." The horror of the situation was dawning on Davos, of what he was accusing their goodsister of.

Stannis nodded. "And I fear she has killed Robert, too. Or caused him to come to be killed." 

"Stannis," Davos said gently, "it was a hunting accident."

Stannis' eyes narrowed. "And you know my brother. How could he have let a mere boar kill him?"

Davos didn't know where this sudden loyalty to Robert had come from. _It was good I did not bring Devan. He should not see his stepfather this way._

"I know you must think me mad—"

"Never!"

"—But I have proof." He went again to his desk and rooted through the papers. "The children have the look of Lannister about them, but every fertile union of Baratheon and Lannister, husband or wife, has produced children with our look." 

"Every one?" 

Stannis grimaced. "You are still unused to the way the great houses note their history, aren't you, Davos? I have record of every marriage ever made by House Baratheon from Argella and Orys down through the years to you and me. And not once has Lannister seed ever prevailed over ours." 

Davos didn't know what to make of this. 

"Look at his bastards," spat Stannis. "The girl in the Eyrie—Jon has seen her. The children at the Rock. There was a blacksmith's boy in King's Landing who we went to see."

"Shireen."

"Aye." Stannis nodded, but he didn't look happy. "Shireen." 

_Poor child_ , Davos thought. He could not begrudge Stannis his resentment over being humiliated on his own wedding night (it had been Davos' wedding night, too, of course), but the fault was all Robert's, not the child who had the misfortune to be conceived on the wrong side of the sheets. 

"So you see?" Stannis went on. "I do not do this gladly, Davos. I do not want… the throne." Indeed, his shoulders slumped like a man defeated. "But it is mine nonetheless." He looked, searching, to Davos. "Do you believe me?" 

Davos paused. It seemed unbelievable, but his husband was not given to flights of fancy. He knew no man more honest, no man more dedicated to truth. Stannis, at least, believed this. He believed it with everything he had. He took Stannis' hand. "Of course I do."

Stannis laid his other hand over Davos'. He said nothing, but the look in his eyes meant everything.

After a brief moment, he let go of Davos' hand, businesslike once more. "Letters will have to be sent, maester. I am afraid I must ask you to do this."

"Of course, my lord." Maester Cressen bowed. Then, he corrected himself: "Your Grace."

Stannis nodded stiffly, jaw tight. Davos knew he must resent the title, all that he had to do now because Robert had died without a trueborn heir. "And you must inform the children."

"Of course, Your Grace." Maester Cressen held Stannis' gaze for a long time, and Davos said nothing. As long as he and Stannis had been married, he would never be able to truly understand the relationship between Stannis and their maester, though Davos had come to love the old man, too, as he had taught Davos to read and nursed his children through their fevers. 

"Thank you," Stannis said, nodding his head formally. 

When the heavy door was at last pulled closed and Maester Cressen's steps slowly retreated, Stannis' shoulders slumped. 

"What can I do?" Davos asked him.

Stannis reached for him and pulled him close. "Take me to bed, Davos." 

**

Stannis had lived all his life by the sea, and he had always found some comfort in the sound of the waves when he could not sleep. When he sat up at night with the window cracked a hair to let in the smell of storm and sea, he could almost pretend he was home.

Davos still slumbered peacefully on the bed. Stannis had slept earlier, had drifted into an exhausted sleep in Davos' arms after they had made love, but it had not lasted long. 

He again glanced out the window. It was the deepest part of the night, though it was hard to tell from the storm. He could see no living creature. For all he knew, he could have been the only man on the island awake. 

He was glad Davos was home. He'd been away too long, and Stannis had grown unaccustomed to shouldering his burdens alone. 

He studied Davos' face, though he had every detail committed to memory. How could he sleep so peacefully? Perhaps it was the commoner part of Davos that left him ignorant of all that their new situation entailed. No one wanted this less than Stannis, except, perhaps for Davos himself. 

Stannis rested his elbow on the arm of his chair and ran a hand through his hair. He was loath to drag Davos into this, loathed perhaps more that he would not complain. 

"Stannis?" a sleepy voice asked from the bed. "Are you over there?"

"I am." Stannis rose, drawing his robe more securely over his shoulders. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Davos pushed up on his elbows. "I only thought that I wanted you near." He extended a hand, the one with the fingers Stannis had shortened years before he had slipped a ring on one of them. He sat on the edge of the bed, allowing Davos to rub his back. He seemed to have a preternatural ability to find all the knots. 

"You will have to decide what you will be." 

"What I will be?"

"How you will style yourself. Now that I am king." 

Davos' hand paused on Stannis' back, but he said nothing.

"There has never been a king of the Seven Kingdoms with a male consort. But King Cleos Stark wed Marlon Mormont and styled him Prince of Bear Island."

"If anything, Stannis, I would remain myself."

"As would I." Stannis took Davos' hand in his, running his thumb over the finger stumps. "But it is not an option open to us. We must move forward and accept what is ours by rights." 

"I do not feel like a prince."

"Feelings have naught to do with it. Let this prove your worth to any man who seeks to doubt it." Stannis cared nothing for ceremony, but the fact that most in his world had not respected Davos as their equal had always burned a hole of resentment in his belly, ever since their wedding day. 

Davos kissed the back of his neck, sending a shiver down Stannis' spine. "You know none of that matters to me."

"It should. It is your right." 

"I know." Davos slipped his arms around Stannis from behind. "That's something I've grown to learn over the years."

"You know I have shirked my duty but once in my life and that was to marry you, Davos." 

"Would I be out of turn to consider myself glad you did so?"

Stannis smiled. "You would not be, no."

They lay down together and Stannis spent the rest of the sleepless night marveling at the man in his arms, for if he was to be blessed with but little luck, he was glad to have spent the lot on such a husband.


	2. Then

When Stannis called Davos before him, he had stood facing the window in the hopes that his face would not betray what he meant to say.

"You asked for me, my lord?"

Stannis took a deep, bracing breath and turned from the window. "It seems my brother's interference in mine own affairs knows no end." He tossed the letter onto his desk. "Now he wishes for me to marry."

Davos hesitated. He obviously had no idea why Stannis would bring this up to him. "I suppose it is time you did, my lord. Do you object to the partner?"

"I do not know who it will be. Robert has said he will choose for me if I am unable to do so myself." Stannis let out a shaky breath, wondering if he dared give in to the mad impulse that had lately struck him. 

"Do you aim to ask me to help you choose a candidate, my lord?"

Stannis turned to study Davos, truly study him. He was watching Stannis with patient brown eyes, and Stannis took in the face he had grown overfond of in the years of their acquaintance. He had only to open his mouth to voice the question, but he found himself unable to force his muscles to comply. 

"There is another solution," he said at last. "I would not have to marry anyone I don't know if I were to marry someone I did know."

"Have you someone in mind, my lord?"

"Aye." He paused. It made more than enough sense on its own. It was not an outlandish proposal. A widower with five children would do well to make an attachment. He had best get on with it. If he betrayed his nervousness, Davos might suspect Stannis' feelings were, in fact, more than practical. "I thought I might marry you, if you would have me."

Davos had not expected this, it seemed, for his shock showed clear on his face. "Me, my lord? You ought to have someone nearer your own age. You ought to have someone who can give you children of your own."

"And you should not be alone. You ought to have a companion in your life. As for me, I have no need of an heir." _Then my shame in Dragonstone ends with me._

"And, my lord, I truly mean it. If you—" Davos paused as though he could not even bring himself to say the words. "If you were to marry me, you would be stuck with me until my death."

"Or you until mine."

Davos smiled slightly. "I understand your point, my lord, but there's no question of which of us is the elder and closest to his grave."

"Davos, you are hardly a doddering old fool. You are in the prime of life."

"And you are three-and-twenty."

"I had your security in mind. The opportunities for your children."

"Such would be wasted on us. We—"

"Nonsense!" Stannis had not meant to snap at him, but he couldn't stand hearing Davos speak in that fashion about himself. "You are worth every opportunity. Worth hundreds of the highborn lads and lasses Robert might make me marry." Davos said nothing and Stannis fancied that he had won the argument. "You will at least consider it," he said. "It would be quite convenient, and… we are well-suited. You have always given me good counsel. We keep good company. We would not quarrel."

"No, I do not think we would, my lord."

"That is better than many marriages begin on."

Davos smiled. "I can only promise I will consider it duly, my lord."

"That is all I ask, Davos." Stannis managed to remain upright until Davos had left his solar. He dragged a chair out from the desk and sat heavily. Were he a drinking man, he would have called for wine to ease his nerves but as he was not, all he could do was stare at the desktop and feel the blood roaring in his ears. This was easily the most selfish thing he had ever done in his life. He did not worry that he was coercing Davos, for he had given him the opportunity to refuse after he had considered it, but he hated that he had allowed his own feelings, his own esteem for the man to take over his capacity for reason.

Well, at least it was in Davos' hands now. Whatever he decided, Stannis would live with it.

**

Being on the sea calmed Davos and he was glad he had the whole journey back to Cape Wrath to think on the matter. 

He certainly needed the time. 

Normally, standing in the prow of the ship, before the open sea, with the wind in his hair, helped Davos to clear his mind. It had been incredibly helpful after losing his wife. But now that he was contemplating remarriage, the salt and spray did nothing to help ease his turmoil.

It was not that for the sake of his departed Marya that he hesitated; they had both agreed that remarriage might happen if one predeceased the other, and she would have wanted him to be happy, as would he her had Davos been the one to have died. 

The question was whether it would be right to wed Stannis specifically. Davos was possessed of a knighthood, a keep, and a highborn son (for little Devan had come two years after Davos had had his name lengthened and his fingers shortened), but he still could not engage fully in the game of lands and titles. His marriage to Marya had been a love match, and he did not think he would be happy if his second marriage were not one, as well.

Regardless, he was glad to see his sons, was especially glad to take Devan from the care of the nurse he was forced to leave him with when he was away with Stannis. This was another thing he could not let go of from his low birth: he wanted to hold his own children.

 _Were I to wed Stannis,_ he thought, as he sat up in his rooms with Devan dozing in his arms, _I would take them with me to Dragonstone._

It was a tempting prospect as he gazed down at Devan's round toddler face. Davos had missed so much of his older children's lives, first as a smuggler and then serving Stannis. Could he be there for Devan? This little one would never know anything but luxury, even more so if his stepfather was the king's brother.

A chilling thought occurred to Davos. That would make the king his goodbrother. That was surely more than Davos had been made for. Even if he was overfond of Stannis himself.

And that, it seemed, was what his mind had been tripping over. He did care for Stannis. It was a regard that had its seeds in their first interactions, when Davos had seen Stannis' worth and the way he was treated by his peers. Since then, he had tried to offer his advice as best he could, baffled as he was by the way Stannis seemed to depend on him. It was true that they might make a good partnership in marriage. It was also true that the idea of being intimate with Stannis was... far from objectionable. 

And surely Stannis had thought of that? Surely he would not have asked if he didn't want to sleep with Davos? 

That would have to be one of his conditions.

The next morning, he went to speak with Dale. 

"I wanted to ask your counsel on something," he said by way of explanation. He allowed himself a glance around Dale's bedroom. It was neat, but sparse, and Davos remembered that as his oldest, Dale had the most memories of life before the onions. 

" _You_ want to ask _me_ , Father?" 

"Aye, for it affects you as well." Davos paused. No one else knew of this save he and Stannis. "Lord Stannis has asked me to marry him."

"He has?" Dale's eyes went wide. "Are you going to say yes?"

Davos smiled. "That was what I came to ask you about."

"I can't tell you _that_." Dale frowned and looked down at his desk and the book spread out on it. _He can read_ , Davos realized. _My son can read._ "Do you love him?"

"I feel that I could come to."

"Does he love you?"

Davos smiled that these were his son's first questions. _He will form a love match one of these days, no doubt_. "I can only hope he would come to as well. I know that he esteems me and values my company as I do his."

Dale frowned in concentration, as though trying to come up with some other criteria. "Would we move to Dragonstone?"

"I think that would be best."

"Good. We miss you." He said this matter-of-factly, but it did nothing to stop Davos' rush of guilt. 

"I would be glad to spend more time with you boys, too," he said. 

"Why are you asking me, Father?"

"I was hoping to get your counsel. You are close to a man grown and I would hear your opinion."

"I think it would be good for the little ones, too," Dale went on, as though now accustomed to his role as advisor to his father. "To be near you, to have Lord Stannis for a stepfather." 

Davos smiled. "But not good for you?" 

Dale shrugged. "I'm too old. But you should be happy, Father."

 _Would I be?_ "You will still be heir to Cape Wrath," Davos told him. "You cannot run off to be a sailor."

Dale laughed, but Davos could see the longing in his eyes, for it was the same he thought might have been in his just a few years ago. "I know. I'll try to run the place well. But we must have ships, mustn't we? On Cape Wrath."

Davos smiled. "Naturally." And then, for even at his great age, Dale was not too old for this, Davos hugged him.

"Did you make your decision, Father? Are you going to say yes to Lord Stannis?"

"I've made up my mind to speak to him. His answer will make my decision."

**

Stannis stood in the vestibule of the sept at Storm's End, awaiting his appointed entrance with rocks in his belly. This was Davos, he reminded himself. Plain, ordinary, unassuming Davos. Davos was no reason to be nervous. Davos had no pretensions. Davos had not wanted… this. But he understood as well as Stannis did that the wedding was an undertaking to be borne as any other. And at close of day, they would be wed and would never have to bother with another ceremony.

As he waited, his mind was again drawn back to that rare sunny day in his solar when Davos had come to him to accept his proposal of marriage. He had been afraid that the fact that Davos had gone back to Cape Wrath meant he would refuse Stannis after he'd considered the matter. Stannis knew Davos always made wise decisions, and if he refused the offer, it would surely be in Davos' and his children's best interest. 

To his surprise, Davos had calmly posed three conditions and Stannis had accepted each one.

The first was that the children be educated as though they were Stannis' own sons, something he had readily agreed to. The second was that they all live together, which had also been acceptable. Stannis had no interest in depriving Davos of his sons. 

The third condition had given him pause. 

"I have no interest in a loveless marriage," Davos had said calmly. "If there is no possibility of that, I am afraid I must refuse, my lord."

Stannis had not expected this request. It had made his heart race and had clouded his vision to the point where he was nearly unable to respond. "It will be consummated," he said. "If you wish. And you know I already esteem you, Davos. My parents barely knew one another when they were wed and they did manage to care for each other in the end."

Davos had smiled. "I can only hope the same for us, then." 

He could feel the heat in his face even now as he remembered the conversation, especially now that the prospect of what would go on tonight was hovering before him. If their marriage was going to be consummated, it would be tonight. He swallowed hard.

"Stannis!" Robert's voice jerked him from his reverie. "Are you ready?" 

Stannis blinked. That was right. He was dressed in his wedding finery, with his brother at his side, ready to meet his betrothed and exchange rings and pledge his undying devotion.

At least that Davos would have in spades. 

"That was a sneaky thing you did," Robert muttered as the doors to the sept were opened by the pair of guards that flanked them. "We could have sealed the alliance with the Reach."

"I won't be a means for you to meet your ends." Stannis was walking slowly to prolong the time until he passed into full view of the packed sept. Under no other circumstance would this many people come out for the king's little-loved younger brother and an upjumped smuggler. 

Robert gave him a lopsided grin. "I just didn't expect you to chain yourself to an old smuggler to get out of it."

"Don't—" Stannis snarled.

Robert held up his hand. "Stannis, I could have stopped this had I truly wanted to. I'm just amazed at your stubbornness." 

Stannis snapped his jaw shut and did not reply.

He could see Davos now, on the opposite aisle. He had asked his eldest son to stand up for him, and the lad had his hand clamped tightly over the pouch on his belt which held the ring. 

Stannis swallowed hard and forced his feet to move forward. 

He was barely conscious of the actual ceremony. The prayers and the singing meant nothing to him, though several times Davos had to tug on his hand so that he might kneel at the appointed time. His mind was a jumble of wild thoughts, mostly centered on Davos' cock. 

Robert cleared his throat and Stannis realized he was trying to give him the ring. Stannis fumbled for it. He slipped it carefully onto Davos' finger, one of the ones he had shortened a scant few years ago. Then, he presented his hand for Davos, who accepted the ring from a proud Dale. 

He tried to concentrate on Davos, on the refracted light falling across them, and not on the sept full of people or the fact that they were all watching and judging him. He was simply glad that the ceremony was at last drawing to close.

"With this kiss I pledge my love," he muttered. 

"What was that?" someone shouted. Stannis threw a withering look into the sept, though he knew not which of Robert's friends was responsible.

"With. This. Kiss. I. Pledge. My Love." 

"With this kiss I pledge my love," Davos said smoothly, and Stannis was obliged to look at him. His heart was racing. They ought to have practiced this, knowing they would have to do it in front of all their guests—half the court and most of the stormlords. People who had known him since he was a child. His brothers, his grandparents, his uncles, his cousins.

Davos seemed to have none of these worries. He reached up, gently cupped Stannis' jaw, and drew it downward so he could press a chaste kiss to Stannis' lips. It lasted barely a few seconds and when he drew back, he was smiling. Stannis felt himself smile, too.

The septon raised his hands high. "Let it be known, now and forever, by the gods, that Stannis of House Baratheon and Davos of House Seaworth are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever." 

Davos was still smiling. 

Robert surged forward, clasping Davos' arm. "My brother!" he said proudly, showing more warmth to Stannis' new husband than he ever had for Stannis himself. "Welcome to the family."

Davos smiled genially. "I could not be more pleased, Your Grace."

**

The wedding party was far more raucous than Davos would have expected, though he supposed Stannis' preferences had not been considered. First, they stood up to receive well-wishers and Davos was introduced to a dizzying array of stormlords, half of whom were related to Stannis. By the time each one had gone, Davos had forgotten his name, but he forced himself to sear in his mind the faces of Stannis' grandparents, uncles, aunts, and young cousins for he would be obliged to remember them later.

Robert was at their side through most of it, uncharacteristically effusive. He kept laughing and slapping Davos' back, something that obviously annoyed Stannis by the tightness of his expression. When the feasting began, Robert toasted them repeatedly, and Davos, who was becoming increasingly tired of people staring at him, began to wonder if this had been the right decision.

This thought left his mind instantly when he glanced to his right and saw Stannis, eyes cast down to his plate. 

"This will be over soon," he said gently, taking Stannis' hand. "And then we will be left to our own devices."

"Aye," Stannis said, though he didn't look convinced.

"Simply tell me when you want to go and we shall. I don't relish staying for the bedding."

"I want to go."

Davos laughed and pressed a kiss to Stannis' cheek. "I think they might want us to cut the pie, my lord. Someone has worked hard on it."

"Very well." Stannis' fork dragged through the onions on his plate. There were more onion dishes than Davos had ever seen at one meal and he was beginning to suspect it had been deliberate. He only hoped there would be no onions in the pie. "And now that we are wed, you must use my name."

Davos' cheeks flushed. "Certainly. Stannis."

Stannis smiled. 

Shortly afterward, Davos found himself dragged away by Robert, presented to still more friends, marched over to meet his goodsister and her entire family (only her younger brother seemed happy to see him join the extended family), and then named Lord Admiral of the Narrow Sea. 

"No more Onion Knight now," Robert declared as he led Davos back to his seat, arm draped around his shoulders. "You are part of my family now and you must have a grander title."

As he sat down next to Stannis, he thought he would always prefer the title and name Stannis had given to anything the king might lavish on him.

Shortly afterward, Robert disappeared, which came as something as a relief to the couple. 

"You know, Davos," Stannis said, sitting back in his chair with his goblet of wine, the first such that Davos had ever seen him imbibe, "I feel quite satisfied. For once in my life, I have outmaneuvered Robert and have wed a person of my choice to mutual benefit. Your sons are already enjoying friendship with my brother." He nodded to Davos' older sons, who were seated around Renly. "They will be well provided for." He took another sip. "A singular accomplishment."

Davos smiled. "I'm glad you're happy, Stannis. It is nice to see you so."

Stannis gave him an odd, surprised look. "Are you happy, Davos?"

"I am. I know you will take good care of my family because you have already provided well for us since you knighted me."

"Exactly." Stannis settled contentedly back in his chair. "I have a mind to try some pie, Davos."

The pie did not contain onions, but it did contain gulls, which when released had the effect of making the great hall at Storm's End sound more like the Mud Gate in King's Landing. 

"I am ready to go," Stannis murmured, when his own slice of pie as only half eaten, and Davos was inclined to agree. He drained his cup of wine, wiped his mouth, and took Stannis' hand. They slipped out to little notice.

The sounds of celebration faded as they climbed to the chamber that had been set aside for their use. Stannis had not let go of his hand and it was with a nervous bent that he half-led, half-dragged Davos. 

_Of course he is nervous_ , Davos thought. _This was begun as a way to wriggle out from under his brother's thumb but he is now obliged to bed me._ Stannis had never said as much, but the fact that he was a virgin was obvious in his very manner. Davos vowed to make it good for him. 

"Here," Stannis said, at last dropping Davos' hand to open the door. 

They were met by an undisguised moan. Stannis stood numbly in the doorway and Davos peered over his shoulder to see inside. 

It was Robert, in bed with a lady Davos recognized as a wedding guest. He could not help but gape—this was truly unprecedented, alongside all he knew Robert had done to Stannis' misfortune.

Then he suddenly remembered his husband. Stannis was gripped in the doorjamb in obvious agony. Then, without saying anything, he turned, cloak snapping, and stormed away, leaving Davos in the awkward position of closing the door.

He slammed it shut as hard as he could. 

**

Stannis didn't remember moving through the halls, nor did he remember stepping out into the battlements. A storm was brewing on Shipbreaker Bay and the wind tousled his hair, blowing the agony from his mind. He gulped down sea air and as soon as he regained his senses, he regretted abandoning Davos. 

_He has probably gone to bed. I am beset by bad luck. Bad luck not to use the bridal chamber, still worse to sleep apart._

__He was already trying to figure out how to tell Davos he would not stop him if he wanted to go back to Cape Wrath and resume his prior life when he heard the scrape of a door opening.

"Stannis?"

He turned. Davos lingered uncertainly in the doorway. "Oh, Stannis." He crossed to him, enveloping him in his arms. Stannis stood stiffly, unsure of how to respond; eventually, he lifted his arms to return the embrace. "I'm so sorry, Stannis."

Hearing Davos use his name was like a balm on his soul. "It isn't your fault."

"But I am sorry nonetheless." Davos looked up at him. "I always knew… how your brother was… but I never knew him capable of this sort of slight. I don't care if he is the king. He is not fit to scrape your boots."

It was the most Stannis had ever heard him say about Robert and it made him feel significantly better. "He won't change."

"And what can it possibly matter to us?" Davos murmured soothingly. "We are married. No one can change that."

"Aye, but he can make the beginning of our marriage as inauspicious as possible by taking our marriage bed." 

Davos stepped back so he could look Stannis straight in the eyes. "Stannis, that is ridiculous."

Stannis felt his mouth twist in amusement. They had not been married five hours and already Davos presumed to call him ridiculous. Which, he supposed, was now his right. "Then what do you propose we do now, husband? Wait for them to have vacated our bed?"

"It's hardly our bed. __Our__ bed is at Dragonstone, or in your quarters at the Red Keep. We can surely find some other bed for tonight in which to consummate our vows."

Stannis felt his face grow hot as he remembered the septon's words. One flesh. "But that was the chamber set aside for our use."

"And I would be happy anywhere so long as I was with you." And then Davos kissed him. 

It was a far more intimate kiss than the chaste one at the ceremony or the brief ones he'd bestowed at the feast when hooting onlookers had goaded them into it. His hands on the back of Stannis' neck made him shiver, and when Davos urged his lips apart, he was ready for the intrusion. He was not conscious of the wind, as Davos kept pulling him deeper and it was impossible to draw back from his lips.

He was startled when fat drops of rain began landing on his head.

"Would you like to go inside?" Davos' voice was low and his thumb brushed lazily over Stannis' cheek. 

"I would. Very much." Stannis kissed him clumsily, and then allowed himself to be led down staircases and up corridors until they reached the chamber Davos had slept in before the wedding.

"This will suit our purposes."

Stannis hesitated to pass over the threshold until Davos tugged on his hand. 

"Don't be nervous, Stannis," he said reassuringly. "It is only me."

 _That is the problem._ Stannis had long desired Davos. Of that he was no absolutely certain, though those first stirrings had been confused and uncertain, when they'd first struck years ago. It was more than gratitude, though. He wanted this man.

Could Davos want him in return?

Stannis had no experience in such matters, but the look in his eyes seemed to be more than one of obligation. His hands were deliberate as they moved over Stannis' body, divesting him of his clothes.

He hadn't meant to be so passive and when he stood shirtless before him, he reached for that hand, the left one. He kissed the palm first, to show his appreciation, then each of the tips, his thumb pressed against the plain gold band he now wore. Neither of them spoke, but he knew Davos, too, was remembering that night four years ago when they'd truly forged their bond. 

"Mm," Davos groaned.

Stannis watched Davos closely before drawing the forefinger into his mouth and sucking lightly before pressing another reverent kiss to his palm.

"I can only say, Davos, that there is no one I would rather have with me for this."

Davos smiled. "I am honored to have been chosen, my lord. Stannis."

They moved untidily toward the bed, Stannis' kisses clumsy as he tried to undress Davos the same way Davos had undressed him. He lacked the skill, however, and it was mostly with Davos' assistance that clasps and ties were undone, leaving them both free to fall naked onto the sheets.

"Look at you," Davos murmured. His hands ranged down Stannis' chest and he shivered as Davos' lips found a scattering of freckles on his shoulder. 

"I want you," Stannis managed to say. "Davos, I want you to—to take me. I swore to myself I would ask this of you on our wedding night, and so I am."

Davos raised an eyebrow. "Are you certain, Stannis?"

"Absolutely."

"Then let us work our way to it." He kissed the corner of his mouth. "I favor a slow approach, Stannis. You will have to get used to that." He urged Stannis to lie down and then his lips worked their way down his neck to his chest. Stannis thought he might be sent over the edge by each kiss. His cock was already begging for attention, and he wondered if he might climax without Davos touching it at all. He hoped not. 

He felt totally laid out, exposed, as Davos' exploration of his body proceeded. It made him wonder if perhaps he had been wrong to think Davos did not want him. He moved with the enthusiasm of someone who had long desired this, although he still savored every involuntary reaction Stannis made, so much so that he stopped restraining himself. Let Davos revel in every squirm and cry. 

It was freeing to give himself over to a baser instinct. No one else was here. No one else could see. He was glad they'd escaped the bedding; this would not be the same if there were witnesses outside the door. As this night approached, he had felt fear tinged with shame to think of it; he now felt neither. 

"Davos," he whispered, reaching down for Davos' hair as Davos' mouth moved toward his cock. 

"Mm?" Davos wrapped his hand carefully around the base and let his tongue touch the tip.

Stannis forgot what he was going to say. He was half blind from pleasure. If Davos spent too long at this, they would never get past it. "Davos, please, I—" 

"I know. I remember." Davos lifted his head. "Are you sure, Stannis? We needn't do everything tonight."

"I am sure."

"Very well. Turn over." Davos gently urged him onto his stomach, which provided him some relief as his cock was now pressed into the mattress. He concentrated on his breathing, on not spending himself from pure anticipation. He could hear Davos digging through his things, looking for something. 

"All right." The mattress dipped again as Davos returned to the bed. Every little sound was tantalizing—the sound of Davos moving on the sheets, the sound of a lid being removed from a jar. "Just breathe, Stannis. Relax. Don't tense." 

He concentrated on that as Davos prepared him. He moved slowly, letting Stannis get used to the finger inside him before adding another, before stretching him, teasing him. 

"Good," Davos breathed. His pressed a kiss to the back of Stannis' neck. "Don't hold your breath." 

Stannis let out a sigh and continued breathing, even as the sheets were crumpled in his hands. The pressure of Davos' cock easing into him was greater, but he breathed through it, relaxed when Davos touched his shoulder as a reminder. 

"Are you all right, Stannis?"

Stannis nodded. Words were lost to him. There was pain, yes, but it was eventually outpaced by pleasure, especially that in the knowledge of what he was giving to Davos.

After that, there was little talking. Davos gave Stannis a chance to get used to him until he began to move, although his thrusts were slower than Stannis was begging for. He brought Stannis to his end first, moving his hips and his hand in time until Stannis was crashing desperately over the edge.

"Now, you," Stannis ordered, his voice raw, though he didn't think Davos could have stopped if he'd wanted to, and his release was a final wave of pleasure before Stannis was well and truly spent.

He was too tired to move from his stomach as Davos lay next to him and brushed back his hair. "How do you feel?"

Stannis gave him a lazy smile. "Good."

Davos smiled back. "Good." He let himself flop onto his back. "I hope it at least made up for anything else that happened tonight."

Stannis thought for a moment. Everything else seemed hazy and meaningless. "It did."

And there was surely more to come.

**

They had too few pleasant days spent mostly in bed before Robert announced the court would be returning to the capital, and, newlyweds or no, Stannis and Davos were obliged to go with him.

The change in venue meant a new bed to try out; it also meant the beginning of what would be their normal routine of married life. Stannis' apartments in the Red Keep were now set up to house Davos and his children, though Dale and Allard would be sent to apprentice aboard ship (by their own choice, their older age leaving them with a preference for sea life rather than knightly pursuits), and Stannis had vowed to find Matthos and Maric knights to squire for in short time. 

This left Devan, too little to know what was going on, though he had taken to Stannis well, and Stannis assumed the role of young stepfather with pride. A standing promise to take Renly hawking was extended to Matthos and Maric, and Davos watched from the window as Stannis rode off with the boys and the birds. If he had had the patience to teach his brother, Davos decided, he would have the patience to teach them. 

It was a pleasant enough day that Davos decided to take Devan for a walk on the grounds. _He will grow up here_ , he realized, as he watched his toddler son pick his way over the garden path, stooping to examine every rock and bug. _All he will know is the capital, this castle._

"Uncle Robert, see my sword!" Devan waved a stick excitedly. 

"A fine blade!"

Davos looked up, startled to see Robert coming toward them, looking jovial. Davos nearly smiled, before he remembered their wedding night. He did not even know if Robert knew they had seen him. It made him even less disposed to tolerate his goodbrother.

"Good morning, Your Grace."

"Call me my name, Davos. You're my brother." He clapped a hand to Davos' shoulder. Davos fought the urge to shake it off.

"Of course, Robert."

His mien suddenly turned serious. "I have a job for you," he said. "I meant it when I named you Lord Admiral. Stannis says you're a fine seaman and I believe him. I'd like to put you to good use reviewing the fleet. I'm afraid we will need it soon."

Davos frowned. "War?"

"There are rumblings in the Iron Islands. There are always rumblings in the Iron Islands. It might not be soon, but mark my words, it will happen. And I aim to be ready for it. Build new ships if you have to. You are my admiral, Stannis is my master of ships. You can work at it together."

Davos knelt to pick up Devan, deciding to let him keep the stick so he would not throw a fit in front of the king. "I appreciate your confidence, Y—Robert, but Stannis is away and I have Devan."

"Take him to the nursery! What are servants for? Put him in with Joffrey. They'll be happy together."

Davos followed Robert somewhat reluctantly into Maegor's Holdfast. It was one thing for Devan to grow up in a castle, quite another for him to be a companion to the prince. 

The queen was in the nursery when they entered, along with Ser Jaime. 

"I need Davos for the day," Robert said. "Joffrey can play with Devan."

Cersei's gaze swept over them. Davos felt distinctly uncomfortable and took the opportunity to wrestle Devan's stick out of his little hand. 

"Joff," she said, "you remember your new cousin." 

Joff looked up from his blocks at Devan, then looked down again. 

"I don't think he wants to play," she said.

"No matter." Davos set Devan down. "At this age, they play next to each other more than they play with each other. Give them time." Devan toddled over to Joff. They regarded each other curiously before Joffrey shakily rose and gave Devan a deliberate shove. Davos' heart tensed, expecting Devan to burst into tears, but he only giggled. Davos was afraid Joff would do more, but he resumed building with his blocks, tolerant even when Devan began constructing another tower. He didn't even notice that Davos was about to leave.

Cersei still looked dissatisfied, but she said nothing and Davos soon found himself led away by Robert.

He pushed the doubt from his mind as he went to work. It was nice to be back aboard ship and his rudimentary writing skills carried him far enough to make his notes. By the end of the day, he was tired, but it was the exhaustion that came from good hard work and the feeling of being useful. 

He was looking forward to dinner with his family when he dismounted inside the gates of the Red Keep.

"Welcome back." Stannis was coming toward him, Devan in his arms. 

"Father!" Devan arched forward and Davos took him, though he thought he had looked somewhat comfortable being carried by Stannis.

"I was summoned to take him back as soon as I returned," Stannis said. "Cersei said Joff had tired of him."

Davos smiled thinly. "Perhaps this was not such a good idea."

"What?" Stannis fell into step beside him as they returned to their tower.

"Staying in the capital."

Stannis paused. "If you would like to return to Dragonstone, I would not stop you."

Davos looked over at his husband. His head was down. 

"Stannis, I didn't mean—"

"No, I understand." He raised his head, looking grim. "I don't want to see you slighted." He paused. "You know, the Florent girl is with child."

Davos did not know the name, but he knew instantly who Stannis meant.

Stannis ran a hand through his hair. "I can only be relieved you are a man. If you were not…" He shook his head. "Bad enough for Robert to sow bastards everywhere, much less in _our_ marriage bed." 

"I feel bad for the child," Davos said. "It did not choose this life."

"No, you are right. It didn't." He sighed. "And something will have to be done with it. It cannot be a shame to its mother and it cannot come to court."

"It could go to Dragonstone." Davos nearly regretted the words once they left his mouth, but Stannis only looked at him curiously. "Devan might like the companionship, for when we are there, he will not have Joffrey."

Stannis laughed. "One friend a prince, the other a bastard."

"Stranger things have happened." He smiled. "Such as a smuggler wedding a king's brother."

Stannis gave him a sly smile and reached for his hand. "I think I would rather dine at home than in court tonight."

Davos shifted Devan on his hip. "I think I would as well."


	3. Now

Stannis spent the next several days wrapped up in preparations Davos did not entirely follow. He was preparing to crown himself king, and he was preparing for war. That much was obvious, and Davos didn't bother with the details except to provide emotional support.

This was his object when he sat with Stannis in the chamber of the painted table, watching him study it. He looked better than he had when Davos had first come home, but he still looked grimmer than he had in years. Davos seemed to be the only one capable of making him relax.

His attention was drawn to voices in the passage outside. They seemed to be coming up the stairs. Devan, seated in the corner, looking bored, lifted his head. Davos thought he recognized the voice as well.

Devan surged to his feet. "Uncle Renly! Matthos! Maric!" 

He was there when the door opened and the three entered, looking severely windblown but from their faces Davos took them to be engaged in a great game. They were dressed in plain clothes and patched wool cloaks. 

"Hello!" declared Renly. "Who's this? Can't be Devan. He's much smaller than this." He turned to Maric. "Where you hiding another brother somewhere?" Devan rolled his eyes and Renly slapped his back. "Stannis, Davos. Good evening."

Stannis cut right through the happy greetings. "Where did you come from and why?"

The last anyone had heard of Renly, he had been with his wedding party in the Reach, and Stannis had not yet wanted to join him. Davos hadn't heard anything about it since the news of Robert's death had reached them, though he had been worried about the boys. He wondered if Stannis' declaration for the throne had had any effect on Renly's plans to wed Mace Tyrell's youngest son.

Renly was beaming. "Well, now we have to tell the tale."

"Tell it!" Devan demanded.

Renly turned to Matthos and Maric. "Where should we start?"

"With the chase."

"Definitely with the chase. And the fighting." 

"You might want to tell them about the wedding, too."

"Wedding?" Stannis cut in.

"Yes. Wedding." Renly beamed. "See what sacrifices I make for you, Stannis? I gave up my party. Loras and I were wed at Bitterbridge, right after we heard the news. And then I sent my new husband back home to rally his father's army."

"Army?" 

"Does kingship mean you can only ask one word questions? Yes. Army. Penrose is getting ours." He looked very pleased with himself. "So, then, you see, we were making our way back to Storm's End. A small party. In disguise, in case you didn't realize." He seemed rather pleased with his peasant's clothes.

"But we were set upon by riders," Maric interjected.

"Lannister men," Matthos explained.

"We fought." Renly looked grave. "A lot of good men didn't make it. We were forced to head south instead. It was easier to get to Cape Wrath instead. Allard brought us over."

"In this storm?" Davos asked.

"Aye, and it was a near thing. I take back all my annoyance at his choosing a captain's life rather than a knight's."

"He'll be up soon," Maric explained. "You know he won't leave that ship of his until she's completely secured."

Stannis was taking all of this in while still looking down at the table. "Are you telling me you mean to support my claim?"

Renly rolled his eyes. "What else could I do? You're my brother."

Stannis looked genuinely stunned, but a small smile crept over his features. "All right then. We have more work to do."

**

The next several weeks were a whirl of activity, so much so that Davos nearly forgot their ward.

He went to see Shireen on a rare free afternoon which found her working on her sampler. 

"See, Uncle Davos," she said proudly. "Septa says I'm much improved." 

"Your stitches are very neat." Davos studied her work. She was in the process of embroidering her name across the top and he could tell the improvement from the _S_ in Shireen to the _S_ in Storm. 

"Thank you." She did not stop working in forming the _o_. "Devan says Uncle Stannis means to make war on…" She stopped, appearing unsure of Joffrey's relationship to her. "He is not my trueborn brother, is he?" 

"No, he isn't."

She relaxed. "Well," she said. "I don't think I feel differently. Uncle Stannis might be the king, but I'm still a bastard."

Davos was about to object to her dismissal of herself, but he couldn't argue with the validity of her statement. Shireen was probably the only one whose life wouldn't change substantially. "Aye."

"And I suppose I will stay here." 

"For the time being." He had always been over gentle with her, though life had been anything but. 

"You don't have to lie to me, Uncle Davos." Robert might have been her father, but in that moment, she looked very much like Stannis. "I will be happy with Maester Cressen and Septa. And maybe Devan to write to."

"I'm sure he will."

"Can I come to the coronation?"

The coronation had been weighing on Davos' mind. Stannis was insistent on it before he began his campaign. For them, it was an inconvenience, but Shireen would enjoy the spectacle.

"Certainly." He couldn't deny her the pleasure, though he could make no promises that she wouldn't be seated somewhere she would attract little attention. 

"Oh, wonderful," she said delightedly, making Davos ache that they could not take her with them, that he had not done more for her. "That will be fine to see. Will you have a crown, Uncle Davos?" 

Davos smiled tightly, remembering his own objections and Stannis' insistence that he didn't want a crown either, but it wasn't their choice to make. "I will. I only hope they can make one that suits me." He smiled at her. "You know I am not one for ceremony." 

She nodded. "I'm sure it will. You will make a very good prince, and Uncle Stannis will make a very good king." She paused. "I'm sure my father made a fine king, too. Maester Cressen has told us of the Greyjoy Rebellion and how father won his crown." She was sure to add, "And he said what you and Uncle Stannis did in those wars, as well. You were both very brave." 

"My contributions were nowhere near as great as theirs."

"You saved everyone in Storm's End," she said emphatically. 

That had been so long ago that it almost seemed unreal. He'd been widowed and remarried, lost his fingertips and gained first a knighthood and then a lordship. Now they wanted to make him prince.

"I did what was necessary at the time. Men were starving and dying. That was wrong, no matter who had the right of it in the war."

She nodded. "You always do the right thing, Uncle Davos. And so does Uncle Stannis. I suppose that's why he's doing this even though he doesn't want to be king."

Davos looked at her curiously. "What makes you think he doesn't want to be king?"

She shrugged. "I don't think he likes being the center of attention. But that's exactly why he'll be a good king."

Davos smiled. "I agree with you there."

"But I'm not sure it's enough to wish I was trueborn." She paused. "Uncle Davos, if I was trueborn, I would be queen." Her blue eyes were wide with horror. 

"Aye," he said with a smile, "and your uncle and I would help you every step of the way."

"I still don't think I would wish to be trueborn." 

Davos smiled. "Truthfully, I don't blame you. Let me tell you my secret." She leaned forward in anticipation. "Sometimes I wish I could take Stannis and settle in a little cottage by the sea."

Her eyes lit up in delight. "A cottage by the sea!" 

"Aye, and we would take you and Devan with us."

"It's a nice dream," she said, as practical as her uncle. "But you have your duty."

"I know, my dear. I know all too well." He stood. "Don't let me keep you from your sewing."

"All right, Uncle Davos."

He paused to look back at her when he reached the door and wished suddenly that he could give her the attention she deserved.

**

The next afternoon, Stannis sat in the sept, head held high, while the septon placed a stag crown on his head. It wasn't the High Septon, nor was it Robert's crown, but he would have to do it. By rights, all men should accept him as king because he spoke the truth, but that was not the way of the world, Davos had told him. And so he sat here, in the sept that was only kept up as a concession to his husband, and allowed the crown to be placed on his head.

There had been a lot of ceremony and prayers beforehand, but Stannis listened raptly to the oath and pledged always to uphold it, and thus was he named King. 

Then the septon turned to Davos. Davos swallowed hard and lifted his head. His voice was strong and clear as he recited the consort's oath. It was a lot of rot about supporting one's spouse, but Davos spoke with conviction, at the end casting a glance at Stannis that sent fire shooting straight to his core. If he would have to endure all of this, he was glad to do it with Davos at his side.

The Septon then reached for the consort's crown. 

It was far simpler than the one Stannis had commissioned for himself (which was as gaudy as he could tolerate). It was a simple gold band, wrought with scrollwork that evoked waves. Stannis thought it suited Davos and that he looked indescribably regal in it. 

"This convinces them," Stannis told Davos as they left the sept and made their way to the chamber of the painted table for their war council. "It is one thing to know I am Robert's true heir, quite another for them to see a man with a crown on his head."

"Aye," Davos said ruefully. He reached up to adjust his own crown. "But I will be glad when I can take this off."

Stannis took Davos' hand. "There will be time for that," he said firmly. "When the throne is ours."

"Of course." Davos let his lips brush Stannis' before relinquishing his hold so he could take his place at the head of the table. Davos was no military strategist, but Stannis was glad for the moral support of having his husband with him in council meetings. He always had wise words, and more than once Stannis was glad solely for his steadying presence. 

"The king's mind is made up," Davos said steadily when Randyll Tarly sought to argue with him. It was due to interventions such as this that Stannis left the council feelings as though something had been accomplished. Stannis knew perfectly well that men did not follow him out of love, but that mattered naught to him. Not as long as he had Davos at his side.

**

Davos was perfectly willing to stand at Stannis' side as he reviewed his troops and spoke to his war council, even if it meant wearing the ridiculous crown. But he was privately glad when Stannis asked him to remain with the fleet, rather than go with the army. 

"You are an admiral," Stannis had reminded him. "I may have made you a prince, but I surely cannot take the sailor out of you."

"Aye." Davos reached up to straighten Stannis' cloak. Being separated from him was one sacrifice he supposed he would have to make. "Be careful." 

"I will try." To try to be careful was the most Stannis could promise. He bent to kiss Davos. "And I will watch over Devan as well."

"You must watch out for each other." Davos tousled Devan's hair. He had accepted with pride the enormous task of being his stepfather's squire, and Davos knew he would keep an eye on Stannis. 

"We will, Father."

"I should hope that you will all be careful," Maester Cressen said.

"And you must take these. For luck." Shireen held out three handkerchiefs. Davos recognized her careful embroidery in the onion-sailed ship on his. Devan accepted his with thanks, but Stannis was skeptical as he looked down at the crowned stag. Davos willed him to say nothing. 

"Thank you," he said gruffly.

Shireen, beaming with pride, seemed not to notice his reticence. Septa Larayne's face was tight, as though she felt it inappropriate for a bastard girl to be presenting the king with her favor, but she held her tongue (and wisely so, for Davos doubted his ability to be diplomatic in that instance). 

"Come, Shireen," she said at last. "We must not bother His Grace."

"She isn't bothering us at all," said Davos, who was not afraid to speak for the king when necessary. 

"I'll write," Devan promised loyally. 

"You had better!" 

Stannis was still looking at Shireen as though he knew not what to make of her. "We will avenge your father's death," he told her.

Davos could tell from her disappointed face that this wasn't what she wanted, but Shireen dropped into a curtsy. "Thank you, Your Grace. Uncle."

He gave her a curt nod. "Come along, Devan." He planted one last kiss on Davos' cheek and left the dock. 

"Should we be off, too?" Allard stood at the base of the gangplank. 

"Yes." Davos tore his gaze away from his husband's retreating back. He squeezed Shireen's shoulder. "Keep up with your studies and be good."

"Yes, Uncle Davos."

He leaned in close to her ear. "And don't listen too much to Septa Larayne."

She grinned. "I won't, Uncle Davos."

Davos was glad to be back at sea. While he had been happy spending the last decade at Stannis' side, he had missed the open ocean, the feeling of the wind in his hair, and the salt spray on his face. He spent as much time as he could on deck, though he tried not to overstep his bounds. He might have been prince consort (a term he still chafed at) but Allard was the captain and thus outranked Davos aboard ship.

Being out in the open also kept his mind calm when he was prone to worry about Stannis. Perhaps he was still mourning their relatively peaceful life under Robert's rule which, while it had come with its share of unpleasant intrigue had always ended each day with him and Stannis tucked up safely in their bed. 

Now, life was far less certain, and the rock of dread he had not felt since the Greyjoy Rebellion, when Robert had placed them in command of separate fleets, had once more settled in his stomach.

The winds were such that their crossing was delayed, and when they reached King's Landing, the advance army was already there. The city was under siege and Davos could see smoke rising from the walls.

"Have they breached the walls?" he asked Allard, who had the far-eye. 

"It seems not. I see Lannister banners." He handed the instrument to his father.

Davos scanned the horizon. The city walls were obscured by smoke, but Davos could still see signs of fighting. 

"I see men!" 

"Where?" Allard took the far-eye back. "You're right! But all their siege machinery is on the opposite bank of the Blackwater. Those aren't Stannis' men." He sounded uncertain. "But they have to be Stannis' men."

"Mutiny?"

"Not if I know the Lannisters. You know how loyal their men are. They choose them for it. We have to get closer, though, before we start throwing anything at them."

The closer they got to the city, the more smoke filled the air. It stung Davos' eyes, but he had to get closer to see who was one the walls.

"It's people!" Allard exclaimed suddenly. "Father, it's ordinary people." 

"Ordinary people?"

Allard could barely contain his grin. "Have a look for yourself." He passed the far-eye to Davos.

It was still too far away to make out individuals, but Davos could tell the men who had the upper hand in the struggle on the walls were not dressed in Lannister colors. 

They were dressed in common clothes, the sorts of things Davos had worn before he'd married Stannis.

"Why?" he murmured. "How?"

Allard laughed. "My stepfather says the people do not love him. They surely must love him more than Joffrey."

Davos smiled, filled with a sudden sense of warmth and hope, though he still wasn't sure he truly believed Allard's assessment. 

"Look at the docks!" Davos followed the direction of Allard's finger. They were close enough to see without the far-eye. The Mud Gate was being thrown open by a group of men who certainly weren't any kind of army. Davos recognized the various tools of the tradesmen he'd grown up amongst before he'd gone to sea, and no matter how elevated he was now, he still thought of them as his people.

"They're chanting something," Allard muttered. "What is it? Pottage? Is the starving that bad? I know there's a food train right behind the army for when we take the city."

"They're not saying pottage," Davos said numbly. 

"Then what—" Allard stopped, realization dawning on his face. "Merciful Smith."

An uncomfortable chill ran down Davos' mind as the chanting of the crowd became more distinct. They were close to the harbor now, very close, close enough that he knew their banners could be seen. He also knew how they telegraphed who was on board—Stannis had insisted the ship be outfitted with Davos' personal standard, something he'd just invented, a fusing of the black ship of House Seaworth and the crowned stag of House Baratheon.

It was obvious to anyone who knew those arms that Davos was on board. 

That was why they were chanting his name.

**

Stannis' battering ram made short work of the King Gate once the defenders had retreated, and even as he rode unopposed toward the Red Keep, he was preoccupied with how easy this was. It should not have been. Even if Lord Tywin was not in the city, the Imp was too clever by half. Why would he order a retreat before the battle had even started? Was he truly that cowardly? 

He rode quickly, surrounded by men for his own safety. It wouldn't do for him to be struck down by a stray arrow when he was so close to victory. That was the sort of foolishness one would expect from Robert, but Stannis meant to be a different sort of king. 

But there would be time later for finding his historical inspirations among his Targaryen ancestors. Right now, he needed to get to his throne.

The Red Keep loomed above them and Stannis rode toward it. The streets were deserted; he assumed the smallfolk would be hiding in their homes, shutters drawn. It was what he would be doing where he in their shoes, and his thoughts were drawn to Davos' safety.

"Stepfather," Devan said urgently, "the people are going to the Red Keep. Look!"

Stannis pulled his horse to a halt. Devan was right. There were mobs of people streaming up Aegon's Hill. 

"What do you make of it?" 

Stannis set his jaw. "I don't know. I will not speculate until we have answers."

Stannis watched the streets as they rode the rest of the way. True to Devan's observation, he found them packed with people the closer they got to the Red Keep, though Stannis' men were clearing a way forward for him. He suspected the people did not even know the king himself was in their midst. It was not until he reached the castle's walls that he understood what was truly going on.

"Stepfather!" 

"I hear it, Devan." 

The men had made a perimeter around the castle and Stannis' party broke through it. He turned to get a good view of the crowd.

"Be careful, sire," Ser Rolland said. "You might want to get inside the walls." 

Stannis frowned. All down Aegon's Hill was a mob of people, all chanting the same thing, as Devan watched in open-mouthed shock. Stannis supposed he might have had the same expression has not five-and-thirty years given him some measure of composure.

"Come along, Devan," he said. "We had best do as Ser Rolland says."

As they passed over the drawbridge, the shouts could still be heard.

"Davos! Davos! Davos!"

Stannis slid from his horse the moment the gates were safely closed. "What is going on here?"

"Stannis!" Davos was running toward him across the courtyard and all thoughts of battle slipped from Stannis' mind.

"Davos." He said nothing more before crushing his husband in his arms. Davos seemed not to mind Stannis' mail for he pressed even closer and Stannis held him tighter. "I trust you will tell me everything?"

"I will try." Davos looked up at Stannis, but he did not pull back entirely. "I fear you would not believe it."

"Not if I had not seen it with mine own eyes." He kissed Davos firmly. "But all that matters now is that you're safe."

"I was never in any danger. These people would never hurt me."

Stannis glanced over his shoulder as though he could see through walls. The chanting could still be heard. 

"They mean you, Father? Really?" Devan was at his elbow and Davos let go of Stannis to hug his son. 

"He is the only Davos I know," Stannis said.

"Gods only know why," Davos said. "But they were opening the gates for us when we docked in the harbor. When we got to the castle, the way was clear." He paused. "The servants had done our work for us."

Stannis' eyes widened. "How?" 

"Overpowered the Lannisters." Davos paused. "So many of their men were out fighting that the castle itself was lightly guarded. Cersei and the children are in a tower room. I made it known I would not see my sister harmed." 

Stannis could only stare at Davos and the hard set of his gaze. For a man who had never wanted the job, he seemed to have stepped into a prince's boots as he'd climbed Aegon's Hill. Stannis felt hardly royal at all next to him. 

"And what of the situation now?"

"I thanked all those that fought for us for their support. We are safe here."

"And what of… out there?" Stannis tilted his head toward the gates and wondered if they would hold against the full force of the mob. 

Davos smiled grimly. "They are very enthusiastic. Grateful, I suppose, for your liberating them. Thought it ought to be your name they are cheering."

 _No_ , thought Stannis. _They have the right of it._

"Perhaps they want to see you, Father." Allard was coming toward them, a small group of men at his heels. "Maybe the crowd would disperse for the night if they could see the royal family from the balcony." He turned to Ser Rolland. "Maegor's Holdfast is secure. Every Lannister's locked up and so are Varys and Baelish just to be sure. We can give Sansa Stark back to her family, for I found her as well." His mouth pressed into a line. "I didn't find the other girl."

"There will be time to negotiate with Starks later." Renly crossed his arms over his chest. "Baelish didn't know about the incest, of that I am sure, or he would have told me. He was trying to butter me up before I left the city."

"And Varys might be able to tell us something," Matthos said. 

"We shall sort it out on the morrow," Stannis said. He hadn't let go of Davos and was not inclined to. "For now, I would go to bed. Is there a bed for me in this place?"

"The royal apartments are being cleared out," Davos said. "I asked them to make the beds in our old quarters."

Stannis felt himself relax. "Then we will go there."

"You're not going to see your subjects, Stepfather?" Allard asked.

"Do you really think it would disperse them?"

Allard shrugged. "They are men and women who want their beds every bit as much as you and I do. But they are loyal and will not go until they've gotten a glimpse of their king."

"The king's husband, more like," Renly added. "No offense, Stannis, but you can hear them as well as I can."

"That I can." Stannis took Davos' hand. "We shall try your tactic, Allard, and see what happens."

They climbed to the battlements together, Devan following closely behind for Stannis thought the presence of the lad might increase the perception of a familial atmosphere. As the youngest of Stannis' stepsons, he was most like Stannis' own child and might be perceived as such. 

The sky was beginning to lighten as they stepped out onto the balcony. Allard had spoken true. The crowd erupted into cheers. Stannis raised his hand to them. He didn't have a speech prepared and his voice probably wouldn't have carried over the noise if he had, but this was evidently enough. After several long minutes of cheering that made Devan grin, the crowd began to break up as people returned to their homes secure in the knowledge that the rightful king sat the Iron Throne.

At least, that was what Stannis told himself. 

As he, Davos, and Devan returned to the apartment they had lived in a scant few months ago, he knew the truth was that they were pleased to see one of their own elevated so high.

**

Perhaps it was simply his exhaustion, but Davos slept more soundly than he had in weeks once he was back in a familiar bed. He knew he wouldn't be in it for long; they would, of course, move to the royal apartments for they could not stay in a small council member's chambers, but it was nice to remember that this was the bed in which they'd built their marriage.

"I have had the queerest dream, Davos," Stannis murmured by his ear. It was full daylight; they had slept until nearly afternoon. "For I am sure it was a dream and I am late for a meeting of the small council, and Robert will berate me for not being able to drag myself from my bed."

Davos yawned. "I might've had the same dream."

Stannis rolled over, straddling Davos. He looked happier than Davos had seen him in a long time and he reached up to brush back Stannis' hair. It was thinner, aye, than when they'd first wed, but that smile softened his face and brought Davos back to when they had first started to explore each other in this very bed. 

"There's still much to do," Stannis said, as though he sensed Davos' relaxation. "We have a government to rebuild." 

"I know, my love, but surely we can take this time to relax. Until we are disturbed."

"Aye. Until we are disturbed." Stannis lowered his head to kiss Davos' neck. He nipped lightly, knowing how it would make Davos squirm. "Half the council is gone. I will need a Hand." He paused. "Would you do it, Davos?" He nuzzled at his neck, his stubble rubbing against Davos' beard. 

Davos laughed. "I can't be your Hand, Stannis. I don't think it's allowed." 

"There is no reason for it not to be. You have given me better council than any man I wasn't married to."

"And might not that be why you think my council so good?"

"No. In fact, it was the opposite. I married you for you good counsel." 

"But that is not what people will think."

Stannis sighed heavily. "You are right. As always." He slid his hand into Davos' hair and regarded him with that look of admiring scrutiny that always made Davos feel exposed, even when he was still fully dressed. "But I will still place you on my council. I shall remove the Master of Whispers and put you in his place." 

"If that pleases you, Stannis." 

"Nothing would please me more." Stannis brought Davos' left hand up to his lips and he kissed the knuckles. "Don't argue, Davos. It is bad form to refuse an honor from the king." 

Davos knew he was right and he pushed these thoughts from his mind as he welcomed Stannis' advances. It centered him after all they'd been through to make love undisturbed. Davos knew it might be some time before they were able to do this again, so he savored every kiss, every nip as Stannis moved lower, and he welcomed Stannis' hips grinding against his as they worked together to seek their release. 

They weren't disturbed until they had lain several minutes together in the afterglow, simply watching each other. Then there was a knock at the door.

"Father? Stepfather? Uncle Renly is here. He wants to talk to you."

Stannis and Davos exchanged glances. Davos squeezed Stannis' hand tightly. "We will go out there," he murmured in his ear, "and face what is to come, and I will be by your side through all of it."

Stannis regarded him for a long moment, then gave Davos a crooked half-smile before pulling him into a final kiss.

"I know." 

**

The next several weeks were a blur. Davos didn't venture out of the Red Keep, by order of his guard, for he was now obliged to keep a guard. He liked Ser Rolland, the bastard brother of one of the young lordlings who went about with Matthos, Maric, and Renly. There was something identifiable about him, the fellow outsider. They could actually hold a conversation which was better than the rest of the deferential knights who danced around him without looking him in the eyes. 

"Well, what is it like out there?" he asked one morning. 

"The people are glad to have a champion. They didn't love Joffrey. They liked Robert, but he wasn't one of them."

"Neither am I. I haven't been one of them in a long time." _Not since I sailed into Storm's End with my onions._

Ser Rolland shook his head. "It doesn't matter to them. They've always loved their Onion Knight." 

Davos shook his head. "They don't know who I am. They don't know who Stannis is."

"Then you'll have to help them see him. And it certainly wouldn't be the first time a popular consort eased the way for a spouse."

Davos kept these words in his mind as he sat by Stannis' side in the small council. He knew he was only here because he was married to the king, so he was doing his best to listen to the discussion. Somehow, no matter how often he had listened to Stannis over his tenure as master of ships, he had not come to be blessed with a mind for politics. So, Davos sat in silence as he occupied the seventh seat, all under the scrutiny of Stannis' uncle Lomas, the Hand of the King.

It was after one of these meetings in which Davos hadn't uttered a word that the older man approached him.

"Mind telling me why you haven't said a word in the last three of our meetings, my prince?"

Davos winced at the title. He had always known Ser Lomas to be little fond of him, though he was, in his own way, very fond of Stannis.

"I am sorry, my lord. I simply find myself with nothing to say, and at the risk of inconveniencing the rest of the council, I decided it would be wise to remain silent."

Lomas exhaled sharply in a gesture that was very Stannis-like. "You're doing your husband no favors, then. He worships the ground you walk on. Says you always gave him good counsel all the time he's known you."

"I have tried to. But much of the advice I gave Stannis when he was master of ships was merely to guide him to his own decision. I would never have presumed to advise him on matters of state."

"So the Admiral of the Narrow Sea never advised his Master of Ships?"

Davos sighed. "I did that, certainly. But I was careful not to overstep my bounds."

"Stannis is king now. I daresay he needs you now more than ever."

Davos knew this, of course, and he provided every conceivable comfort when they were alone in their chambers. He let Stannis rant, gave him back rubs, and provided any distraction he could want. 

Lomas didn't wait for him to answer. "I know you hate the ceremony. I know you have little time for the sycophants, the hangers-on. The rest of them don't know you. I'm sure they think they do; they think you start and end with onions and they have no idea why my nephew married you. But I think I have an inkling, and you'd best start showing it. Those people made our way easier because they had faith in you. Don't let _that_ be in vain."

Davos had never connected the two in his mind before. Maybe it was his isolation in the castle that had made the rawness of those first moments fade when he'd realized what devotion he'd inspired without having done anything at all. That felt as wrong as those around him who had always seen him as the Onion Knight, a mere curiosity at Stannis' side. 

He opened his mouth to reply to Lomas but he'd already moved off to corner Renly. Perhaps, he reflected, the greatest outcome of this conversation had been the realization that Uncle Lomas might actually like him.

**

Davos was still puzzling this when he returned to the royal apartments. All of their things had been completely moved in, and Davos had begun to settle in to their new life. 

It was difficult, though, to think of this as theirs. They were occupying Robert's bedchamber and Devan Joffrey's. Davos had even made an attempt to furnish the chambers that had been Cersei's, though it was not his custom to sleep apart from Stannis. 

He was startled from his reverie by a knock on the door. "Come in."

It was Devan, looking somewhat shaken. 

Davos stood. "What's wrong?"

Devan shook his head. "Nothing. Stepfather had no need of me today, and I know I shouldn't have, but…"

"What did you do?"

"I went to see Joff." Devan looked down at his feet. "He wasn't happy to see me." 

"No, I'm sure he wasn't."

Devan looked pained. "I know it wasn't his fault. And I didn't try to make him feel bad or anything. I didn't tell him I have his room now. I just thought maybe he… missed me."

Davos sighed inwardly. Devan had always been somewhat blind where Joffrey was concerned. He had always been eager to get the prince to like him and had been dragged along through his vicissitudes as Joff had decided alternately that he would have no dearer companion and that he would not consort with a smuggler's son.

"And did he not?"

Devan shook his head. "He said he'd never really liked me, and he—well, he said all kinds of terrible things about you, Father." His face suddenly hardened in an expression of anger far beyond his years. "I thought he was just upset, that he didn't really mean it, but I don't think so. He was never very nice." 

"I always thought you could do much better for companions," Davos said cautiously. "I remember how you used to play together. You did not seem happy, but he was who you had for playmate when we were in the capital."

Devan nodded. "I always liked it better when we were at Dragonstone. I liked playing with Shireen and the servants' children better." 

A thought occurred to Davos suddenly. Perhaps he ought to have mentioned it to Stannis first, but he decided not to. Had Cersei wanted to do it, she certainly would not have sought Robert's permission, and while he would be loath to model his behavior as consort after hers, perhaps there were some customs he could adopt in moderation. 

"Would you like for Shireen to come here?"

"Could she?" asked Devan hesitantly. "I mean, I know she's a… well, some people think she's bad luck."

"Your stepfather and I certainly don't believe that."

"I know. But it's not just you; it's other people."

Davos smiled. "I can also confidently say that your stepfather and I are little concerned with what other people think."

Devan grinned. "I know that, too. I know I'm busy with my squire's duties, but she'd make for nice company."

"Well, we certainly have plenty of room." _It will be good for them to have each other_ , he thought. 

"Thank you, Father. She's good company. For a girl."

Davos had to smile at this; he suspected it would not be long before Devan's opinions on the value of girls' company might change.

Davos was busy over the next few weeks. Stannis approved of his proposals, and true to the words of Uncle Lomas, Stannis was pleased to hear from him. 

The proposals would still have to be debated before the council, but Davos hoped to see the poorest of their citizens fed, clothed, and educated, or at least the attempt made. 

He could not get the images he'd seen on their procession to the Great Sept to be crowned. Someone who had only glanced casually might have only seen the people pleased to see their king and his consort. Indeed, they had mobbed them both to and from the sept, trying to touch them. Davos had been flattered, but he could not help but wonder what he could do to deserve their love.

For Davos, perhaps alone among the royal party, had seen the rest. The barefoot children, the blind man on the street, the mothers with too many mouths to feed. It was a scene he knew well, though it had been a long time since he'd laid eyes on it. He had been one of those barefoot children, the extra mouth. It felt good to know that he was putting his experience to good use. Perhaps that was his purpose in having been elevated from a lowly smuggler. 

He was so busy in drawing up his proposals for the small council that he wasn't aware until too late of the arrival of Allard with Shireen.

They received her in the royal apartments for supper. She entered on Allard's arm, looking like she was making every effort to be a grand lady. 

"Your Grace. My prince. Thank you for inviting me to court." She dropped a perfect curtsy, and Davos imagined Septa had put her through her paces before allowing her to leave Dragonstone. 

"It was all Davos' doing," Stannis said. 

"Thank you, uncle."

"Sit," Davos said, "and let us eat. We haven't had a meal together for some time."

Devan and Shireen spent the meal exchanging tales of their experiences since they'd last seen each other. Shireen was particularly impressed by the smallfolk's reception of Davos.

"The people know what we already know, don't they, Uncle Stannis? That Uncle Davos is wonderful."

The corners of Stannis' mouth lifted into a fond smile. "You are right about that, Shireen. The people have proven to be a good judge of the men who would seek to govern them." 

Davos was about to object that he didn't seek to govern anybody, but he decided to let it go. 

"But I suppose you'll have to put off running away, won't you, Uncle Davos?" 

"Running away?" asked Stannis.

Shireen grinned. "Uncle Davos said his dearest desire was to run away to a cottage by the sea."

Stannis raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Only a dream, my love."

Stannis took a sip of his water. "A nice dream, but we have our duty."

"That's exactly what Shireen said." 

Stannis looked at his niece in surprise, though she was chatting happily with Devan and did not seem to notice. 

**

Shireen proved to be a very pleasant addition to court. At least, Davos thought so. As he worked on his proposals, she sat in his solar, working her sampler. It was pleasant to have her near, with the sun falling in shafts from the windows that faced the sea. 

Of course, it soon became obvious that she was only pretending to work her sampler.

"Are you going to be able to convince the council to provide for the people?"

She'd appeared suddenly at his elbow, blue eyes wide as she perused the parchment over his shoulder. 

"I hope so."

"Uncle Davos?"

"Yes, dear?"

"You misspelled _privation_. Right here."

"Oh." Davos felt his cheeks grow hot. He still wasn't completely comfortable with writing and it showed, especially when he was compelled to produce an official document. "Then I am lucky to have your help."

Her sewing now abandoned, Shireen pulled a chair up to his desk. He would not tell the council—or even Stannis—that his bastard niece had been consulted on the spelling. 

"It _is_ a good idea," she said loyally. "When Allard and I rode through the city on our way from the docks, I saw them, too. It doesn't seem right that we are up here in our castle and they haven't got anything. We—Uncle Stannis—is supposed to be taking care of them. And I'm not saying he wouldn't, of course, but I think—" She looked puzzled as to how to continue. "I think perhaps he doesn't know they're there. Because I can't imagine he would ignore them if he did. Nor would have Father."

Davos laid his quill down. "That is why I am bringing them to his attention. I think when you are raised in a castle, it can be hard to see outside its walls even when you try to. I find myself forgetting things I used to know simply because I have spent all these years wed to a lord."

Shireen nodded sagely. "I think I know how you feel. I'm not lowborn, not truly, so I'll never know what that's like, but I do know what it's like to… to feel like you don't belong."

Davos squeezed her shoulder. "You always belong with us, Shireen."

"I know." She smiled sadly. "But I know I'm different. But I want to help. Can I, Uncle Davos?"

"We'll see. First we must see if the council will approve my plan." He looked down at his notes. It seemed an awful burden to a child to confess his apprehension, but Shireen knew better than most her age what cruelties their world was capable of. "I worry that it is too much."

"How can feeding widows and orphans be too much? Educating children? Housing the sick?"

"Gold, Shireen. Can our treasury spare the expense when there are so many pressing needs and so little coin to cover them?"

Her chin adopted a determined set that reminded him strongly of Stannis. "But this is surely the most important one! How can we do anything but help when little children have no food?"

Davos kissed her on the forehead. "That is what I hope to convince the council of."

"But Uncle Stannis will do what you say, won't he? He's the king and your husband."

"And I must not abuse that privilege. I don't want anyone to think I did not get what I wanted justly."

Shireen frowned. "But that doesn't make sense."

"It will, one day." He never liked telling the children this, especially when he was not convinced it made sense himself.

She still looked skeptical, but she settled in to help him with his task.

**

At last, he had a proposal he thought none could poke holes in. Not that he seriously thought anyone would challenge him, of course. He knew full well the princely privilege he enjoyed with the council, the majority of whom was somehow part of his extended family.

It was the principle of the thing. 

"You will be remembered for this," Davos told Stannis when he affixed his seal to the new laws that would help provide for the citizens of Flea Bottom. 

"No. It is _you_ they will remember," Stannis said. "Of that I have every confidence."

Davos had not asked for any of this (though he knew Stannis hadn't either). It seemed they would both continue to make the best of what they'd been given.

To Davos' great surprise, he managed to fall into a rather tolerable routine which still left time to spend alone with Stannis or with their family. He was close to feeling comfortable being a prince.

Close to it, perhaps, but not exactly there, which he learned one morning at breakfast.

"I need to meet with the Dornish delegation this afternoon," Stannis said abruptly. "You will have to sit court today."

"Me? Hold court?" The suggestion was so absurd Davos almost thought Stannis was making a joke, if that would be remotely within his character. "Without you?"

"I certainly cannot be in two places at once."

"But, Stannis, surely that is Uncle Lomas' job?"

"Uncle Lomas on the Iron Throne would drive all the supplicants away." Stannis paused. "Perhaps I ought to consider it."

"And surely the Dornish will want to meet me." He must have been desperate to suggest this. "How silly you will look appearing without your husband."

"Well, it won't be as though I couldn't get you to come with me. They will know where you are. And you will be with the party for luncheon."

"But, Stannis—"

"Hush." Stannis kissed him. "Or I will give you still more work until you have been convinced of your own worth. I have been trying to do that since before we were married. For once, trust your king in his own wisdom."

Davos had no answer to this, though it was with incredible trepidation that he climbed up and gingerly sat himself upon the Iron Throne.

He'd witnessed court countless times, first in the gallery when it had been his goodbrother on the throne, and then beside it when it had been his husband. They had always known where to begin.

"Will you hear the first supplicant, my prince?" This question came from Ser Rolland, always Davos' salvation. 

"Yes, Ser Rolland. Send him in."

The first was a land dispute, easy to resolve in Davos' view by having the two brothers share the land their mother had left them. It was what he would have wanted his own sons to do.

The next several were along those lines and Davos was pleased that he was doing so well.

And then came the poacher.

The man had been caught poaching on the holdings of a small landed knight, Ser Garrett. Davos remembered when Robert had carved out a keep for the man out of part of the crownlands and that was why the case had been brought to the throne.

"Do you deny that you were poaching on this man's land?" Davos asked.

"I won't deny that I went hunting to feed my family. I knew Ser Garrett's lands were close, but not that they were that close."

"Understandable," Davos said. "The boundaries are not clearly marked.

"Absurd!" exclaimed Ser Garrett. "Anyone with any sense knows where my lands are, my prince."

"Are you telling me you have never made an innocent mistake, ser?"

"Of course not, my prince. But this man made no mistake. He knew what he was doing. He has done it before and not just to feed his family. He is a poacher, a common thief, and I would have you pass judgment on him."

"I will do exactly that." Davos closed his eyes to center himself, offering up a small prayer to the Seven that he was making the right decision. "Do you know my history, either of you?"

"Yes, my prince," the knight answered.

"No, my prince," from the poacher.

"What is your name?" 

"Henrik, my prince."

"Henrik and nothing else?"

"Yes, my prince." The man shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was this how Davos had looked when he'd first spoken to Stannis?

"I was born the same way. Davos and nothing else." Davos had never relished his popularity, but he was somewhat amused that his fame hadn't extended this far, for the man's eyes went wide. "I was born low as you. Lower, maybe, for you have a plot of land to work and I was born in Flea Bottom. My living and my crime was smuggling." He paused, surveying his audience, full in the knowledge that Henrik was the only person within earshot who did not know the story. "I acknowledged my crimes and paid for them, in exchange for a better life." He lifted his hand so the man could see his shortened fingers. "This was the price the king and I agreed on, though he was not the king then, nor my husband." 

The man paled. "You saying he should get to cut my fingers off? My prince?"

"No, of course not. But I would like you to agree to terms. Ser, if you want your tenants to stop poaching on your land, you might offer them better living. If Henrik here could not feed his family, that is your responsibility."

Ser Garrett looked furious but he wisely held his tongue. 

"That is my judgment," Davos said. "If you repent your crimes and take on honest work, you will have no quarrel with the crown. That is, if you are afforded honest work. Should you turn to poaching again, then we will have more to say on this."

"Thank you, my prince." The man bobbed his head. "I can't thank you enough for your mercy."

"It's only what's right." He looked at the knight, who now seemed more cowed. "We all have our responsibilities and we need to remember them." 

"Yes, my prince."

To Davos' great relief, that was the end of court for the day. The men he had just passed judgment on had shaken him, the mixing of the two halves of his life. He reached for the pouch containing his finger bones, which he still wore every day, though he kept it tucked in his shirt now.

Stannis was not in the great hall for supper and Davos ate his stew alone, subdued. He wanted his husband, needed him. Stannis was the only person who could put his roiling mind to rights. He did not even know if he had done the right thing. It was surely not the expected thing, but it had seemed the right choice in his mind. He thought about Shireen's words, about what it was like to never truly belong no matter how much time you spent somewhere. 

He was glad to be back in his own quarters. 

To his surprise, Stannis was already there. He had a book open in his lap, though he wasn't reading. He was staring into the fire.

"There you are," he said when Davos entered. "You were busy today."

"Oh, Stannis, how do you do it? How do you wear this every day?" He took the hated crown from his head, dropped it with a clatter on a side table, and went to stand in front of Stannis.

"Because I know I must. As do you." Stannis slipped his arm around Davos' waist. "I can tell you with certainty that I would not be able to if I didn't have you at my side." With uncharacteristic impulsiveness, he pulled Davos into his lap.

Davos closed his eyes and relaxed against the wing of the chair, savoring the solid warmth of Stannis' nearness. "How were the Dornish?"

"They were Dornish. But what matters is that they are ours. They bowed to Robert however reluctantly, and they will bow to us because we are not Lannisters." Stannis rubbed his eyes. "Say what they will of me, but I am keeping my brother's kingdom together."

"You are doing a fine job." Davos carded his fingers through Stannis' hair. It might have been his imagination, but it seemed thinner than it had when they had first embarked on this journey. Stannis had long said Robert would have driven him bald long ago had he not had Davos to relax him. "And you have plenty of us who want you to do well."

"Perhaps." Stannis kissed him and they lingered long in it. Davos was hoping this might lead straight to bed, but Stannis broke off, leaning back against the chair. "Uncle Lomas told me of your day in court."

"I am sorry if—"

"You did a fine job. I have half a mind to put you on the throne every day." He paused. "But I won't because I love you." 

Davos smiled. "Thank you, Stannis."

They were silent for a moment and Davos fancied he could be lulled to sleep here, pressed in close to Stannis, with the fire crackling merrily in front of them.

Though he would be much more comfortable in bed.

"I'm proud of you," Stannis said. "Of how you dealt with Ser Garrett." 

Davos' stomach was again curdled by nerves. "I could not think of anything else to do."

"You did marvelously. I can only hope I would have made the same judgment had it been me." He nuzzled at Davos' beard. "I can only hope Ser Garrett learns his place. And that that man truly does reform."

"I think he will. I think my demonstration was very effective." Davos moved his caresses to Stannis' neck in the hopes it might inspire some more intimacy. "It was more a marvel that there was any man in the Seven Kingdoms who did not know my tale."

"I dare say he will not be inspired to wed his liege."

"Stranger things have happened."

"Aye, and we would know." Stannis tightened his grip on Davos. "Who would ever have thought that I would be seated on my brother's throne, his bastard as my ward?"

"She is a good girl."

"I know." Stannis sighed. "One day, we must put our minds toward her future. She'll need a husband. She'll need something." 

Davos longed to say something, but decided not to. There would be time. They had years. Years in which Stannis might be convinced there was only one person of his blood in a position to ascend the throne after he was gone, a person who had years in which to make the realm love her, a person who was only out of the line of succession because a royal decree Stannis was perfectly capable of writing had not been issued yet. 

"Something will come to you. It always does."

Stannis nodded, and Davos wondered if the thought hadn't already occurred to him. "And _you_ ," he said, "Davos, what shall we do with you?"

A shiver of anticipation ran down Davos' spine. "You have done enough, surely."

Stannis kissed him. "I am nowhere near through." He rose, urging Davos to his feet. "I shall never be through with you." He laced his fingers in with Davos', squeezing the left hand tight. 

"Very well." Davos kissed him, and, as though they did not have a kingdom to run, he slipped his arm through his husband's and led him to their bed.


End file.
